Thirty days for love
by Ania Lupin
Summary: 'Malfoys don't fall in love', the Slytherin boy always said. So what happens when, on a bet, a Gryffindor becomes something more?


**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, unfortunately.

**Synopsis: **'Malfoys don't fall in love', the slytherin boy always said. So what happens when, on a bet, a Gryffindor becomes something more?

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**Thirty Days for Love**

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_**An Idea**_

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_Saturday, last day of September._

_Draco POV._

"This year we're goin' to win the Quidditch Cup for sure!" I heard our captain affirm, lively. "No more losing for five years in a row! Those damn Gryffindors will finally see of what we Slytherins are capable of! They're goin' to eat dust at the end of the championship!"

I was in the middle of that roughhouse happening in the Slytherin Common Room, sitting on a green velvet sofa with something too hot glued to my arm. Ah, Parkinson, drunk like a pig, trying to be somehow noted - as if I could forget this unpleasant presence with her talking nonstop. That almost ruined my delight of having defeated Ravenclaw by a massive score - two hundred and twenty to ten.

Almost.

"Butterbeer saves all this, at least." Zabini, sitting with one of his arms around a brunette which I couldn't remember the name, seemed to read my thoughts.

I looked again to what had once been a common room: dirty mugs everywhere (that on the chandelier was a mug too?), the dark green rug hidden by tiny silver and green papers, crumbs of pumpkin cupcakes and God knows what else scattered everywhere. That place was in urgent need of a house elf.

At least the room was less filthy than last time – Slytherin improvement. The students could still get into their chambers without stumbling over something on the way.

Another glass of butterbeer, and another attempt to unglue my so-called girlfriend of my arm, but apparently the blond had an unknown strength when tipsy. When her hand didn't move even a millimeter and she tried to cuddle with me for the third time I finally gave up, and grabbed what I swore was my last butterbeer.

The students started going to their chambers one by one, and when my eyes stopped on the black and silver clock near the huge fireplace, the almost empty room made some sense: 1:30 AM.

Blaise probably was already in his chambers – or maybe in the brunette's – because the chair he was sitting a while ago was now occupied by Marcus. Pansy had already blacked out - hands still stuck together like iron around my arm - and would be soon in my bedroom for another long night. Sleep in an empty bed, something so good and increasingly rare these days.

"She's acting up lately, isn't she?" Flint came out from nowhere with the question. I shifted, with a still dead Parkinson beside me. It won't be long now until she starts snoring.

"She's annoying the hell out of me these last months. Pansy talking is impossible to bear - only Firewhiskey saves." It was safe to tell the truth to Flint, there's no way this witch could be listening.

"So break up with her. Give me the girl, I don't really mind having a blonde annoyance." Flint smirked. One month with Parkinson going restless after him to completely change his wizard mind. "She's hot, you can't deny that."

"A relationship must have at least one benefit, right?" Flint laughed, as he poured more beer in our mugs. "It's really not her fault to have been born with the ability to speak – I can only blame her for doing such thing. If she was unable to vocalize, she would be the perfect witch." And that was partly true - Pansy could even hear now for all that I care.

"Her voice is sexy, Malfoy." Sure. Sexily annoying. "The difficult thing is to put up with her saying those stupid variations of your name: Drake, Draky, my little-"

"Enough." I glared at him. "Only Merlin knows why I'm still with her." Perhaps the fact that I wasn't – and won't ever be – in the mood to put up with a speech from my father about how difficult is to find a pure blood from a traditional wizard family these days. Or something like that.

"The Slytherin ice prince not wanting to hurt the witch's little heart?" the question came in a mocking tone. "Or she showed to you some other benefits besides her curves?"

"Don't talk like that about my girlfriend." I said, unable to avoid the same tone. "And she showed me some really good benefits, of course. Why do you thing I keep putting up with this bitch?"

"Maybe 'cause the girl loves you?" So? I should be with her and endure all the daily bullshit just because she loves me? Just for love? I almost laughed at the thought – love was for the weak of mind, especially in these times. "She's the only one that doesn't see the _real_ _you_, Malfoy." Butterbeer number nine. "Or doesn't want to see. Who was the girl in the locker room this afternoon? Looked like that Hufflepuff one, Bones."

"Ravenclaw." I answered, emptying my mug once more. "Don't ask for a name, you know I don't give a damn about names. She's just another stupid witch. Nice body, good kisser, too dull to be good for anything else. Wasn't born with a silver spoon in her mouth, not worth of my time. In fact, not worth of anyone's time and Lucius would kill me if he ever found out." Why the hell I'd made out with her at the end of the game anyway?

"You only say that 'cause you never tried anything with a Gryffindor witch." Marcus seemed to notice my puzzled face. "You can't forget a Gryffindor's girl name. They freak out."

"And why, in Merlin's name, would I try something with a girl from our rival's house? Gryffindors, Flint, are almost as bad as a Hufflepuff. Would be stupid even try to get close to one."

"Montague surely didn't think it was when he started going out with Lavender Brown last year." Good God, he still remembered of that disaster? "_Oh, she's perfect for me, we'll spend together the rest of our lives', blah, blah, blah."_

"And then, to end the despair of the Quidditch team, Bulstrode appeared again and put our goalkeeper on the line. A Slytherin simply can't love a Gryffindor." Love – yeah, right. "What a joke."

"But since then, ask to any Slytherin if they dared to go out, date, whatever, any golden girl."

"Anyone with a reasonable IQ knows the difference between loving something and wanting something that's hard to get. Montague was with his Gryffindor prize, enjoyed his victory awhile, and then a girl who was really worthy came into his life and pulled him out of his miserable Gryffindor-loving state." Another mug – the last now, truly.

"So you think you could date one without falling in love?"

"What did I just say? Of course I won't fall in love!" Malfoys don't fall in love, ever. "Do I look like I'm in love now?"

"Are you dating a girl with any principles by chance?" A twitching Pansy caught my eyes. I lost a few seconds making sure she was still asleep before turning my attention once more to the team captain. "Maybe it's a little different when you go out with a decent girl. But that we really don't know, course, lately our Slytherin girls are not like that anymore, with maybe one or two exception. Since I joined the Quidditch team I've never seen a witch that didn't gives in to a popular boy charm. And given that I don't make goin' out with non-Slytherins a habit, it's hard to know how a golden girl can change a Slytherin heart."

"You should try a Hufflepuff for a change." Marcus grimaced in disgust. Yeah, maybe I was the only one in my House who sometimes fooled around with other Houses girls – was definitely not easy get a Slytherin having Pansy as girlfriend. Not that she was feared by every girl, but a handful could have their reputation ruined if Parkinson decided to open her mouth.

I was about to get up and try again taking the blonde out of my arm – curse you, Pansy - when Flint once more opened his mouth.

"Wanna make a bet, Malfoy?"

"Can this bet get me expelled like the last one almost did?"

"Don't think so. But you won't like it." Flint smirked. "I bet you can't go out with a Gryffindor without falling in love. I dare you to."

I looked at him for a few seconds, trying to keep a straight face, holding as much as I could my laughter – date a Gryffindor Flint, really? The blonde beside me yawned, but seemed still sleeping heavily.

"Too easy for you?" I heard him ask, somewhat annoyed.

"I just don't understand how many times I'll have to say: love is for the weak. You never are with someone for love - is an illusion - but for what the person can provides you. The more someone can give to you, the bigger the love." It was so simple, so easy to understand. Who would stay years next to someone who didn't bring any good, only love? That didn't provide, if not material things, fame, power, status? "What a Gryffindor could offer me, Flint? Which one would be good enough to give me something that I really need?"

"Ready to hear the answer?" There was an answer to that? "Ginevra Weasley."

Fuck me.

"No way." Dating a Gryffindor would be my end. Dating a Gryffindor Weasley would be my death sentence.

"Hey, do you know who is Ginevra Weasley, Malfoy?" My surname in the same sentence that _Weasley_ gave me chills – of course not, why would I know who that mudblood lover was? I didn't even remember that there was a woman - besides the fat old mother - in that family.

And then, suddenly, before Marcus next words, my mind clicked. Oh. _The Weaslette._

"You really don't remember her? Second year music card, Potter, these words do not tell you anything? That's a real challenge, isn't it? What happens if you get her?" If I get that redhead, I rub that fact in Potter's face. "And I doubt that your father will make a big deal out of it, if he ever finds out. It's a bet, and it's for a good cause, right? And as you say, Malfoys don't fall in love. He'll sure understand."

"For how long?"

"At least a week, no less."

I looked at the witch who slept beside me – I had to find a way to get rid of her for a while.

"Not a day longer, after getting what I want. She is still in love with Potter, isn't she?" Flint nodded.

"She's no longer as shy as before, nor is his shadow twenty-four hours a day but still idolizes the idiot."

Perfect.

"So I think we have a bet, Marcus."

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**N.A.:**Hi! I apologize in advance for any Grammar mistakes, 'cause English is not my first language.

But I tried anyway translate my fic :D

Thanks everyone for reading this chapter!

Xoxo


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